


Agent Looks For Bigfoot, Finds Mothman, Dates Mothman

by Anonymous



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Indrid is sort of a dick, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Indrid is suddenly looking forward to being stuck at the Amnesty Lodge, despite his initial misgivings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will man this ship myself if I have to.

Today is shaping up to be bad. Something had shorted out in his winnebago, and he'd nearly froze to death before he'd managed to get a hold of any of the Pineguard. 

And one of them had apparently called Mama, and  _she_  had offered him a room at the lodge until they could fix it, but Indrid Cold was well aware that he had not parted wth her on the best of terms, and her offer was out of obligation or duty rather than any sort of goodwill towards him personally. 

So if he was grumbling under his breath who could blame him?

Between that and the cold,  he's a bit distracted and unable to look at anything closer than a few minutes ahead.

"'Drid! " Duck Newton sort of scoffs as he holds open the door to the lobby of the Amnesty Lodge. He hasn't been here in years. It looks nearly the same, actually. "You're fine, alright? Not your fault your 'Bago broke."

 "I appreciate the sentiment, but I could have just as easily seen it coming as I could have waited. And I'm not especially welcome here, and I realize that."

"Absolute nonsense!" Says Ned Chicane, carrying a comical amount of his blankets and sweaters in his arms. Indrid sighs. Ned keeps going anyways. "Besides, if they didn't want you, they wouldn't have offered. Trust me, I am continually on Mama's bad side."

Aubrey comes down the hall and shakes her head from the other end, making that little gesture where she swipes her hand in front of her neck a few times, but that doesn't stop well, any of them.

Or maybe Indrid was the only one to notice, because Ned barrels in front of him and Duck shuts the door behind him and nudges she shivering Indrid forward.

They make it to the other end of the hall. "Change of plans," says Aubrey. "Stern's in there and there's no way you're sneaking that distinctive of a person around the lodge for God knows how long. At least, that's what Mama said."

Briefly he sees freezing to death in his own future. Or perhaps he's just being dramatic. 

It's terribly hard to tell, sometimes. Being caught would be in the cards too, but honestly that seemed like a less pressing issue than freezing to death. Now  _that_  was definitely just him being dramatic.

Duck starts to say something (to offer somewhere else to stay?) before a voice calls out from the hall- _Barclay's_. "Oh good, I was hoping you'd make it by the time lunch was ready, come on in."

"Barclay, Stern's sitting in the couch out there, we can't just-"

" _Aubrey_ , he's going to freeze to death, let the poor guy come in and get some soup. Indrid knows how to handle himself, he's been doing it longer than the rest of us have even been alive."

That was a lot of trust coming from a man he hadn't seen or even talked to in around twenty-five years now, but Indrid felt himself smiling and thinking just for a moment about how nice it was to be back to the place that had been his home once, if only for a little bit.

He wasn't terribly fond of staying in one place, and he and Mama often had differing ideas on how to solve problems but...it wasn't a bad time to look back on.

Some days he even missed it. "I'll be fine, you three. Barclay's right. What kind of soup did you make?"

"Broccoli and cheddar, since I knew you liked that."

"Delicious, thank you."

He doesn't tell Barclay how he'd tried hard to time leaving so that lunch would still be piping hot...Barclay probably remembers. A nifty trick, if somewhat useless in the grand scheme of fate.

The lobby is quiet. It's midday, so he supposes most people are still out on the slopes, which is good. Quiet is perfect, when he's been alone for so long. 

It's easier to see things when it's quiet, and easier to block out the world around him. He follows Barclay to the kitchen and watches as Aubrey, Duck and Ned all head up the stairs to throw his things...well, somewhere. That isn't a problem for now.

Barclay moves over to flip the grilled cheese he's making and Indrid doesn't bother to ask before ladeling some of the hot soupe into a bowl, before pausing and looking up at Barclay. "I  _do_  hope you trust me."

He sighs and flips the second sandwich. "You've rarely ever steered us wrong."

He grins in response and moves to dig a spoon out of the drawer. "Close enough, I suppose. Whatever happens, do trust that it will be alright."

"I don't much like the sound of that."

"I knew you wouldn't. I'm going to go eat lunch now, thank you."

 He sits right down next to Agent Stern in the lobby, because there is...no time like the present, or whatever that expression is. He's never been fond of it before this very moment, but the things he's seeing are beginning to indicate that introducing himself is the best course of action.

And he offers a smile. With practice he's gotten better at making it look less unnerving but that isn't saying much. Stern looks up from his newspaper and does sort of a double take. "Hello! You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

 "Not at all. I saw you walk in with Aubrey Little, Ranger Newton, and Ned Chicane. Do you know them?"

Indrid nods. "Yes. They're good people. Do you ?"

"Not-not well, but yes."

He supposes that he can't comfort the agent by saying that he doesn't know them all that well either. He goes about putting the too-hot soup in his mouth and Agent Stern goes back to reading. 

It's much easier to think now that he's relatively warm and full. While it's terribly cold outside the heat is up rather high in here. Perfect.

And then the power clicks off. A car has just crashed into a power line somewhere down the road, and knocked over several others.

It is getting cold again,  _he's_  getting cold again (although perhaps he really hasn't yet)  even with the hot bowl of soup in his lap. And he begins to shiver again.

Today would be his unlucky day. It really would be. But someone notices his shivering and Indrid's more than certain that (judging by about ninety percent of futures) Agent Stern couldn't even harm a fly if it had been bothering him for hours. 

And he will, of course be happy to report this to the rest of the lodge, once he is paid in full.

Right when Indrid had expected him to, stern gives up trying to read in the dark and looks at him. "Are you alright?"

"I have circulation issues, and I'm getting quite cold because of that, but I'll be fine, thank you for asking."

He looks left and right and then back at Indrid, who is currently trying to usurp what is left of the bowls warmth in his hands, because yes, he really is getting cold at this moment. 

Awkwardly Stern leaps up, runs to the opposite side of the room, gathers all the blankets he can find into his arms (two) and runs back, just missing Indrid setting the soup bowl on the side table and folding his hands in front of him.

"Would this help?"

Indrid stretches just a hair upwards to catch the light flush under Stern's collar that he knows is there, and he offers a smile. "Oh my, yes! Thank you."

He huddles up underneath the blankets and patiently counts the seconds before Stern begins to visually shiver himself. "You know, I really wouldn't mind sharing," he says, carefully measuring his sing-song tone. "You were so kind to get these for me, and they really are quite warm."

He hesitates for a bit longer than he had expected, but it isn't like the powers coming back on any time soon. And then they're sort of awkwardly sitting there under the blankets like terribly cold and desperate people, but also about how he'd expected people who just met to sit. 

Which is fine. Anything more might be too much for Indrid right now anyways-he has been away from people for a terribly long time. But this isn't exactly the only time he plans to take advantage of Agent Stern's kindness (although that sounds kind of terrible) and in the process, prove to the lodge that he is useful as an ally and intends no harm, and the other way around, too.

A plan in which Sylphs benefit and he gets to be with a cute guy? Today is most certainly looking up for Indrid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, write the content you want to see in this world.

Eventually of course, the power comes back on, and both Indrid and Stern are very quick to jump several feet apart as soon as they see Barclay coming in from the kitchen.

Well, Indrid does his best to scoot away when it happens, and not when he first sees it, but it is terribly hard to tell and he might've been off enough to garner a strange look before Stern catches wind of Barclay and takes the initiative. 

"It for a little cold and I tried to reheat it and I think-uhh?" Barclay pauses and looks back and forth between the grinning Indrid and distinctly uncomfortable Stern. The plate with a grilled cheese sort of wobbles in his hands as he passes it down to Stern. "I hope Indrid here isn't...bothering you too much, Agent."

Indrid scoffs, and tries to ignore the questions that will come up about his name in due time. Stern shakes his head a little and throws a glance at him as he clears his throat. "No...I mean, you two know each other?"

Barclay starts to say something about how they'd met once or twice, when Indrid cuts in. "I lived here for a month or two several years ago. You have an awful lot of questions about the lodge, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I'm here to investigate, I work with the FBI."

Indrid knew that already but tilts his head slightly. "Oh, that sounds absolutely  _fascinating_." Barclay shoots him his,  _'You're literally going to be the death of me'_ look. "I'd really like to hear more about that, if it isn't classified of course."

"Uhhh," Barclay says again when Stern offers a more than just polite smile. "Enjoy your lunch Agent. And Mama wants to talk to you when you've got a minute, Indrid."

 And then he makes his quick escape, back to the kitchen. 

"I'm...well, most people think it's silly."

"I won't," he says quite seriously. It's not silly. In fact it's just the slightest bit terrifying, but Indrid won't tell him that, either.

Stern still looks a teeny, tiny bit nervous. No doubt he was used to everyone in the lodge making him feel bad about his career in one way or another. 

Indrid supposed that there was no way Stern could fault them for that if he knew. "I work for a division called Unexplained Phenomena, and it's more or less exactly what you'd expect that it is, and yes, I'm here in Kepler about Ned Chicane's Bigfoot Video."

"Fascinating. Have you found anything?"

There is no future in which he does more than politely sake his head. "Usually that's the part when people laugh. I can't say I'm used to anything other than that so...thanks?"

"Well, you're very welcome , I suppose. I'd have to be foolish to think that there aren't...strange things that happen, although I do admit that knowing Ned Chichane makes me doubt the validity of that particular claim."

 Stern just looks thoughtful for a moment, crossing and recrossing his legs almost uncomfortably. "I suppose that's a fair point. But...But there is something strange going on in Kepler, even if it isn't that."

For a split second he's caught speechless. But not knowing what to say is a certain sort of dangerous, and even if he's liking the idea of this new risk, messing up by acting suspicious doesn't seem like the sort of risk that will lend it's way well to reward.

"No, you're right. I hope that you find whatever it is."

"I do too. You...Barclay said your name is Indrid. That's not-"

"A very common name? Yes, I know, and I wasn't aware of the...connotations of my own name in this area when I first came here. Interesting, isn't it?"

At that he just gives him a once over before nodding. They both get quiet again.

Indrid thanks Stern for letting him sit by him, and more quietly thanks him for the blankets before ambling at his own pace down to Mama's office. 

She's working on something. Not carving. Not yet. It will be, and it will be  _beautiful_  but right now she's just sketching out a shape on a piece of paper. "Oh good, you've settled in." 

"On the contrary, Madeline I've only just had lunch! My compliments to the chef, of course, it has been far too long since I've-"

"Alright, alright! Cut the shit and sit down, would you?"

He smiles, feeling almost smug, but sits down anyways and folds his hands in his lap. "You wanted to talk to me, did you not?"

 "I didn't want your bullshit, though. Were you out there talkin' to Stern?"

That isn't what she wants to talk about, but he avoids telling her that and nods quite emphatically. "I certainly was. I don't think he'd have any ill will towards any of you, if he knew. Also, he's incredibly handsome, and I thought that I'd mention that just to see that particular look on your face in real time."

"Laugh it up, you insufferable bastard. I'm sure you'll still be laughing even when he's got Barclay's head on a fuckin' plate."

"Barclay is a dear friend," he counters . She doesn't mean it. Well, maybe she does. She probably does. 

Then again, he's never claimed to be kind, or even an especially well-functioning person, so she isn't wrong. "I wouldn't do anything unless I was sure of the outcome." 

He doesn't need future vision to tell him that she remains unconvinced, and he catches the end of some grumbling about how he hadn't changed. No. He really hadn't.

If only she'd known him back in Sylvain. Then she really would have had to note it.

"Alright, well. I've got you in the room next to Dani. You still remember where that is?"

"Of course. She won't be especially pleased to see me though, you know?"

Mama scowls. "Oh yeah, I know. I dunno that anyone was, Indrid."

A part of the reason he didn't get along so the other Sylphs was just class difference, of course. 

The other reason, was when you warned someone of a dire situational outcome, and they didn't want to listen and the bad thing happened anyway, then the bad thing happening was suddenly your fault.

So if someone were to be having an unlucky sort of week, and refused to listen to any of your (terribly cryptic) warnings about things like...slipping and falling into the springs, or getting stung by a large number of bees, or stepping into a stickerweed patch....well, one can imagine that the soothsayer of all these events would not be your favorite person.

This is not what happened with Dani, but Indrid still laughs at the image of Thacker falling into the springs and emerging wet and incredibly angry anyways.

The thing was, that Indrid was mostly  _(read: entirely)_  at fault for Dani's exile from Sylvain and had failed to apologize. But, realistically speaking it had been his job, and whether or not he had previously enjoyed the power given to him, that's really all it was, another problem of probability.

Besides, she was happy here. Happier than she likely would have been in Sylvain by this point.

"I do appreciate you letting me stay here. It'll be no longer than a week, assuming it doesn't snow up north and a pigeon doesn't fly off with the delivery man's keys, and Duck and Ned and Aubrey don't set something on fire or break my Winnebago worse than it is already when they try to install the new peice."

She rolls her eyes. "Just be a good guest, and you can stay as long as you like."

 

After lugging his things (there isn't as much as he likes to pretend, but stars, if it isn't fun to be dramatic about it) into the room next to Dani's, he faceplants on the bed underneath exactly four fluffy blankets and sleeps until what he feels is a reasonable hour. 

Which of course means it's already empty and dark downstairs, and although he knows Barclay's kitchen related rules by heart still, Indrid finds himself digging through cupboards before abruptly stopping and turning. Three, two, one- 

None other than Agent Stern stands in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes and sleepily stumbling past Indrid and going straight to the refrigerator. Indrid puts on what he hopes to be another unthreatinging smile. "Oh, hello again!"

Stern turns and blinks at him a few times , eyes wide. His hand flies up to hide a yawn. "Hello. Are you up to get a midnight snack too?"

"Yes, hot chocolate. I know Barclay used to keep it in this cabinet, but it has been...a very long time since then."

Suddenly he finds himself having a hard time not overlapping in the conversation. Conversations are...not especially pleasant to have multiple times. It's far easier when people know that he can see ahead and he doesn't have to hide. Patience is hard.

"Oh, I saw him get it out the other day. It's up-" Stern stretches, and Indrid admires (not for the first time, of course) that Stern nearly matches him in height, and the way his pajama shirt sort of rides up when he stretches to reach the container of hot chocolate mix in the top of the fridge. And then he turns on his heel. "Here."

"Thank you! You've saved me a great deal of trouble and possibly a long lecture about messing with the order of the kitchen."

Stern laughs before covering his mouth again, like he doesn't want to laugh. "I got that talk too, but I think Barclay was afraid he was telling me what to do it something, so it was like Lecture Lite."

Indrid's smile goes a little wider and he coughs, and begins his best Barclay impression. "If everything isn't in its place, how'm I supposed to find it when someone asks for it, 'Drid? You can't just leave everything all over the floor like you do in your room!"

Stern laughs again and doesn't try to hide it this time. "God, that sounds exactly like his voice, you're good at that."

"Thank you. I'm also told I do a pretty good Mama, but I get the distinct impression that if I were to do that in her lodge then she'd magically teleport down here and kick me out."

They talk and talk and talk, while Indrid makes his hot chocolate (and downs it far too fast) an Stern opens up one of those little packets of cereal that they put out when there's a buffet for breakfast, pours milk on it, and starts eating it rather enthusiastically. 

"So you travel? What's your favorite place you've been?"

"I don't know, I liked when I spent a few years in New  York. The less crowded parts, of course. Along with my other health issues, I don't do well in loud spaces. Do you travel a lot with your job? "

He looks surprised at being asked a question about his job that isn't, _'do you seriously think bigfoot is real?'_. "Yes! Mostly small towns like Kepler, but a few bigger places. I like the small towns."

Indrid doesn't catch his own soft sigh and the way his chin falls on his hands, but Stern has a sort of smug (but happy) look on his face, and he supposes he should have been paying more attention to his own actions.

"Weird question, are those glasses prescription or just decorative?"

"Can't see a thing without them," he shakes his head. That much is true, entirely so, and then Indrid laughs. "As you've probably guessed, I'm not in the best of health." By earth standards, that is also entirely true, but it certainly it doesn't tell the entire story. "I'd better to go bed. I'll see you at breakfast?"

"I'd like that. Thanks for sitting and talking with me, Indrid."


End file.
